Working as a police officer in Mexico

"Uncle, we can definitely agree with Victor, this is our chance!"

In the guest room of the National Palace, the decoration was very luxurious, resplendent with gold; even the walls boasted gold sculptures, taken from the homes of drug traffickers. Those desperadoes also liked shiny gold things.

Thanks to the drug traffickers... those bastards for the "movement funds" they sent.

Bramo Ramsfield was a bit restless, pacing back and forth, his hands alternately stabbing and pulling out from the table, his face showing... excitement.

Belsaria, sitting beside him, and Bramo's father, Ulrich Ramsfield, also nodded. Their eyes were red and swollen, and their faces were worried. He could sow seeds around the world precisely because his family was powerful and had many people willing to give them money.

But with Donald dead, if no one stands at the top or upper echelons, they might slowly disappear like other families...

Time is also the best knife!

How could they, accustomed to good days, let go?

"Yes, we need revenge. This is our justification. I believe there are still many people in the United States who side with my father," Ulrich Ramsfield said hoarsely.

Philts, just one year younger than Donald, sat on the leather sofa, his murky eyes looking over...

The ones present were nothing but a bunch of good-for-nothings!

Even though Bramo became a mayor, he hadn't made much progress...

Do not be elated in victory, nor fearful in defeat; those who have thunder in their chests but are as calm as a lake on the surface can be Grand Generals!

But he had an agitated look...

He was much like an Indian who saw a Komodo dragon.

Philts sighed lightly, rubbing his tingling nose. "Victor is not a good person either. Aren't you afraid that he'll gobble you up after working with him today?"

How could a strongman who fought his way up from the bottom be compared to these skeletons in the grave?

In Philts's view, Mexico already has a promising future, a strong leader, a capable army, control reaching down to the grassroots, and even some Village Heads are retired soldiers.

Quickly implementing Victor's policy at the grassroots level.

For example, land distribution, or the village collective medical system, could they be accomplished without a strong voice?

Philts had met Roosevelt, once when he was 12, and he was nearing death. That aura, standing there, was the center of the world!

Victor resembles him, but he's different; he's younger and more vigorous.

Give him time, thirty years, no no no, twenty years, when the centralization of power seeps into the next generation of Mexicans' minds, the position of the leader in North America will shift.

Ulrich Ramsfield opened his mouth, about to talk about his daughter's relationship, but his son beat him to it, "Uncle, I know, but do we have any retreat?"

"When the memorial service is held in Mexico, we effectively declare full-scale war with those behind the scenes. We automatically stand on Victor's side. Of course, we could surrender, but wouldn't surrender mean waiting for death? Since resisting also means death, surrendering also means death, I want an epic battle."

"I want to tell this world that I was here."

Philts stared at Bramo, got up, adjusted his clothes, "You all stay put, I'll go talk to him, the Ramsfield family isn't at the point where you all need to bear the weight yet."

Bramo's face lit up with joy, "Good!"

The old man opened the door, saw the patrolling officers standing not far, called out, and they hurried over, "Do you need anything, sir?"

"I want to see Victor... the General."

The patrol officers nodded, reported the message up, and soon, Guard Commander Joseph Xiafei came down to lead the way.

As Victor's office door opened and he entered, the latter was still bent over his work. Upon seeing him come in, Victor looked up, his eyes showing some fatigue, "Please, sit down, Grandpa Philts."

Hearing his address, the old man's face softened, he shook his head, and directly said, "How do you plan to help us?"

This made Victor pause, was it so straightforward?

"Do you want to be President?"

But Philts immediately interrupted unhappily, "Victor, let's be real. You know, as long as those people are alive, I can't possibly be President. They aren't fools."

Alright...

The grand visionary approach was a bit flimsy in front of this practical old man.

Victor also sat up straight, raising an eyebrow without any anger at the interruption, "Then what do you mean?"

"Donald's memorial cannot only be in Mexico; let me return to the United States. I need more public opinion and prestige to bring voice to those fighting to support us," the old man squinted.

"They need a leader."

"The United States is dangerous..."

"If you want power but fear risks, you could be a duck, letting a woman grant you ecstasy on the bed. During the Vietnam War, I killed 4 Vietnamese, only warriors deserve respect."

Victor nodded, it seemed that those from the older generation who survived were not simple.

"No problem, any help you need, just tell me, I will unconditionally support you."

"I have one request now."

"Please, say it."

Philts smiled, and even on his slightly age-spotted face, a slight dimple could be seen.

"You can marry Belsaria."

Victor's breath caught, and then he nodded, "Of course, I love her, I'm very willing to walk into marriage with her."